


Burning Midnight

by krispielee



Series: Valhallarama [2]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Dead Stoick the Vast, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Story within a Story, Storytelling, based on the comic by the same name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krispielee/pseuds/krispielee
Summary: The emotion on his face was difficult to read.Bittersweet.Their father had such an impact on everyone there. Telling stories about the great chief was heartwarming. Rama could feel the smile lifting up onto her face as she thought about how great her father, a viking, was; only just accompanied by the chilly stab to her heart at the realization here. She knew, if she was so like him as her mother had said before, she would be all right.She and her brother could carry on. Push through and reach the other side.Hiccup would lead them there.





	Burning Midnight

Rama wasn't sure she'd ever be used to living with humans.

Being stuck in close quarters with them made her nervous (which would then cause her to spend all of her energy trying to look like she wasn't nervous (which ended up making her fairly irritable and turned off any semi-friendly vikings that felt like taking a chance to speak with her)). She spent her first weeks on Berk in a constant flux between confusion and frustration. Life there had been unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was exhausting.

The only way she managed was thanks to Snares. His easygoing nature and calm integration to their new lives with humans was the complete opposite of her. To him, there was no real difference between living on Berk with other vikings than there had been in the nest. He was a loner, but he was always there for her. The only reason she could spend any amount of time around vikings that weren't her mother or brother was because of his serene presence at her side.

Berk was the first viking village Rama had ever really seen. They had introduced her into the Hairy Hooligan Tribe only hours after learning that her mother was even from there, causing quite an uproar among the residents. Most of them were fairly welcoming after the initial shock (which one must add to their distress at their home being nearly destroyed by an ice-spitting leviathan, a sudden new wave of all the dragons from Valka and Rama's nest combined with all of Drago Bludvist's army, and the sudden death of their beloved chief), but there were a few. . . incidents early on.

Just the first day, a few vikings had accidentally gotten too close to her than she was comfortable with, and she let out a harsh growl and snapped her teeth at them. In Rama's mind, the reaction was a warning. A simple action to tell them they were making her uncomfortable and to back off, a signal even the smallest dragon hatchling could read. There would be no hard feelings. However, despite living with dragons themselves for a few years, her perpetrators were not aware of the intent and saw it as a threat.

The noise that followed afterwards farther delayed the repairs on Berk and had to be mediated by Hiccup. In the back of her mind, Rama felt a little guilty about causing him more stress; but she couldn't wrap her mind around the miscommunication. It made her blood boil under her skin, being so lost for the first time in her life.

The next issue arose a few days later. She had been scaling a few of the buildings in the town, eating her evening meal with a few Nadders on the roof of a house, crouched down in an animistic way that caught the attention of a few passersby. They didn't like the way she acted at all. Many vikings left her be and kept out of her business; and if they judged her, they did so silently. However, there were a fair amount that did not see it this way.

It never crossed her mind that she shouldn't climb up the sides of buildings and eat her meals with dragons. And after a long and, on her part anyway, confusing conversation with Hiccup, she was sentenced to only scale buildings she was specifically given permission to.

The rules of viking society made her head spin; and even after she felt like she was learning so much, there always seemed to be something else.

Rama did her best to stand and move upright on her legs and straighten her back out more, to mimic the ways she saw other vikings moving. She found early on that humans did not like her low crouch to the ground (something about it unnerved them; it seemed); but again, against her best efforts, the slightly hunched way she held her shoulders and predatory way her eyes scanned around her environment was uncanny.

A few men had even gone to Hiccup to complain that her inhuman behavior was dangerous, and that it was a bad influence on the children that had taken to following her around the village (harmless, really. Of all the vikings in the village, these were the few she enjoyed seeing).

Hiccup immediately turned them away, firmly; and, as far as she was aware, no one had brought it up to him again. That didn't mean they didn't scoff, glare, shake their heads at her very existence. However silently.

Her brother seemed to always try his hardest to make things easy for her. He was enough like her mother it was easy to spend time with him.

Hiccup had invited Rama and their mother early on to come and stay in his home and, while she was very grateful of his invitation, Rama found that she couldn't get a good night's rest in a viking nest so easily. The wooden walls were too weak for her to feel safe lowering her guard inside. One accidental blast from a dragon and the entire building would fall in. She couldn't wrap her head around the decisions they, humans, made.

Wouldn't it make more sense to mine into their mountain? Live in the natural tunnels and caverns that were already there? Surely it was safer?

It seemed large enough, and they already proved that they were capable from the Grand Hall they gathered together in for meetings and communal dinners.

Rama understood she needed to learn their ways; and, on some level, she wanted to. But staying on Berk, for more than a few days at a time, made her skin crawl as though something were nestling under there. Her stomach would not rest. She felt like closing in on herself and became more resentful and frustrated the longer it went on.

It was getting better.

Slowly.

But she still took every chance she could to get away from them all. It was remarkably easier to spend time with her mother and brother and the other dragon riders he surrounded himself (though just barely) with than any of the rest of the island. Even after being named chief, the alpha of the humans after their father, Hiccup still made time to travel around with his inner circle when the occasion required it.

Which lead them to where they were now.

The group had been investigating an island nearby. The native dragons seemed to be especially aggressive and territorial with the unique ability to spit a sticky foam that caught prey the size of a Nightmare and attached them to the ground or nearby trees or the like. The group had been ambushed soon after arriving and all of their dragons had been caught in the line of fire aside from Toothless.

The Night Fury's speed was rivaled only by Snares; but, unluckily, Snare's bright white scales reflected off of the moon and made him a glowing target. A Silver Phantom's best chances always lived high in the sky, not weaving between trees as they had been doing. It would have been next to impossible to escape from the surprise attack from a pack of unfamiliar dragons. Valka's strong arm latched onto the back of her hood, knowing fully well that Rama would not leave her partner unless someone dragged her.

As soon as all of them had taken refuge inside, Toothless let out a glowing purple blast to block the overwhelming pack clambering to get them from outside.

The aggressive and wild dragons were worthy adversaries; and, on some level, Rama admired them. However, this admiration was greatly overshadowed by her anxiety at being locked away with humans and separated from her other half. Snare's calming effect and patients constantly reminded her to be careful and kept her from losing it. And now she was stuck in close quarters with humans while he was out there, caught in a web and ready to be eaten.

They had only been inside for a few minutes since the resident Night Fury had blasted the entrance to cave in, but someone had already gathered together enough material to start a small fire. Most of the dragon riders had taken seats around the cozy campfire on nearby rubble, fairly relaxed despite the circumstances that had landed them there.

Humans.

Rama knew she was just looking for any excuse to be bitter. She would be just as easygoing as they if her companion was with her. Nevertheless, she felt the beginnings of an angry growl rise in her throat. A reflex. She was furious.

Rama scaled the rocky wall keeping them inside to peer through the cracks. To her right, another of Hiccup's companions did the same.

She felt the hairs along her arms rise at the small gap between them. Of all of Hiccup's friends, this one . . . irritated her the most. He had been a dragon trapper before he turned to live on Berk with the Hooligans, and was, himself, an outsider. She felt deep down she owed him, considering his loud, boastful nature kept most of the attention of the tribe on him and away from her.

But he had been a trapper. He sold dragons to the man responsible for her father's demise. Rama knew the rest of Berk had done much the same a short five years ago, even went as far as to slaughter them for sport; but he was remarkably stupid when it came to dragons and it made her livid just watching.

He showed no hint he would betray dragons now he had switched sides, and Hiccup trusted him enough to bring him along on their missions and even left their father's dragon in his care after his passing. But just the knowledge. Just knowing his history and seeing the leftovers of that life as he learned the simplest of tips about his new allies.

The Rumblehorn he rode was a very serious dragon and, as much as she hated to admit it, was extraordinarily well fit to work with the man.

This Eret character was set straight more by his own dragon than he was by any of the experienced human riders he flew with.

Rama couldn't help watch every time she saw him try to show off (only to fail spectacularly immediately afterwards). Her mind had wandered more than once to the relationship between Skullcrusher and the former trapper.

Despite his inexperience (and questionable background), the Rumblehorn seemed to really like him. It baffled her.

The man that addressed himself as the greatest dragon wrangler in all the world, only to be proven wrong time and time again. The Rumblehorn that spent his spare time sitting with the sick or injured dragons to keep them company while they healed in the medicine caves. The man that learned to trust dragons just like that after a lifetime of destroying their lives and treating them like property.

Skullcrusher was a natural leader that took up the responsibility of keeping the baby Scuttleclaws in line after they began setting fires and destroying buildings on Berk.

Eret was a cocky know-it-all that didn't seem to actually know anything.

They were so different, but seemed to bond better than most of the other Berkians had.

Was it because Eret reminded the Rumblehorn of his last rider?

She had no clue how similar Eret was with her late father. She'd been avoiding talking about his death since before his funeral.

It was another source of frustration for her.

Not knowing.

She did what she always did in that kind of situation: she peered through the cracks of the rugged barrier in front of her, looking outwards at the enemy rather than at what was happening inside her own head. Her fingers were pale white from the tight grip she had and she stared a hole through the other side to avoid thinking about how her former worst enemy was only an arm's length from her side.

Hiccup trusted him.

She trusted Hiccup.

The hole in the wall offered little for her in assessing their assailants. It was still very dark outside and the way the foreign dragons seemed to blend in with the dark gray and green environment made it difficult to spot them. It was easier to just listen for them, the echoing calls breaking through the small cracks in the rock wall that didn't seem to give her any favorable information. The cave they were in was located near inside a canyon and the sounds outside were bouncing along every surface before they reached her ears.

_. . . trespass. . . hunger. . . trespass. . . fight. . ._

It was no wonder the dragons had attacked the party, really. These dragons were a tightly nit community and extremely territorial.

Behind her, another low rumbling growl vibrated through the still air of the cave.

"Easy, bud- -" Hiccup was quick to calm his partner, one comforting hand pressed to the shoulder of the Night Fury. "I hear them, too. We all do."

"Nothing we can't handle, chief," The outlander beside her replied confidently. "I counted only forty or so before Toothless sealed us in here. Let's storm the lot of them and- -"

"No one wants to save our dragons more than me, Eret," Hiccup interrupted him before the man could go on. "But first, Toothless needs to regain his strength."

Rama jumped from the rocky wall she was hanging on quietly and moved to stand beside her brother as he was speaking.

"Seriously?!" The shortest of Hiccup's companions shouted out. "I always thought me and Hookfang would make it to Valhalla in a blaze of glory; not buried alive with you losers!"

Snotlout was rude and disrespectful. Rama had the most trouble with him when it came to vikings getting too cozy or getting too close to her. More often than not, he was one to wrap an arm around her shoulders and talk to her funny. She always had the impression he was making fun of her, which made her knock his legs out from under him and bend his limbs in ways they weren't meant to bend.

Astrid, Hiccup's betrothed, thought this was especially funny.

Out of all of her brother's companions, she liked the blonde warrior the best.

"And nothing would have made us happier than to start that blaze, Snotlout," One of the Zippleback's riders commented with a gleefully cruel smile.

Rama always had trouble telling the two apart.

"We can still set you on fire if you want. . ." The other finished.

The mischievous pair had eluded Rama so far. She wasn't sure she wanted to understand them.

"Ha!" The big-bellied blacksmith laughed at them. He was a scarred warrior and one of the few vikings Hiccup actively went to for advice. "You know what this reminds me of?"

Rama avoided speaking with him when she could.

"This reminds me of the time Stoick and I went hunting after the Monstrous Nightmares that took my hand and leg."

But that doesn't mean she didn't listen to every word that came out of his mouth.

"We got separated from the rest of our search party during a maelstrom; but survived by swatting back Thor's lighting with our axes, as you do."

His storytelling (which was not an especially rare occurrence) was unlike anything else she had heard before. One of the very few things she so greatly admired about the viking people.

"Of course, we grew bored of taming the elements after a while and decided to take shelter in a cave just like this one!"

Maybe she just loved stories in general.

"Only that cave _wasn't_ empty! It was chockablock full of- -"

. . .

_The two men had strolled inside the cave fearlessly, arms draped over each other's shoulders like the best friends they were. They only stopped after spotting over thirty heads spring up to growl at them._

_"Snapptrappers!" Gobber exclaimed, seeming more annoyed than alarmed at the sight before him. A dragon species that would put a Zippleback to shame: they all sprouted four heads each. "I thought I smelled chocolate- - and death!"_

_Stoick let out a bellowing laugh, "Aye, Gobber. Just pretend you're pulling weeds back on Berk."_

_Immediately the lifelong friends set to work: tying together four heads here, punching the lights out of another over there, headbutting another unconscious to the side._

_"I usually need two hands for that, Stoick!"_

_"You'll make due, my friend. You always do!"_

_They finished their work just as the storm outside ended and took their time to pull out drinks to celebrate._

. . .

"Everyone talks about the _Greeks_ and their _Hydra_ ," Gobber waved one arm at the mention, scoffing. "But we did it a _lot_ more _humanely_!"

The seasoned jack-of-all trades seemed exceptionally proud of this moment in his life, and Rama couldn't help believe the account. The scowl on her face didn't leave at the end as she analysed the contents.

"Gobber," A nasally sort of voice slowly piped up from the other side of the fire. "That story can't possibly have happened. Swatting lightning with axes?"

While Fishlegs seemed confused and a little annoyed by the validity of the adventure, Astrid asked with an amused smirk, "And where did those flagons of mead come from?"

"Ehh, details, details. . ." Gobber waved his fake hand at the questions.

Rama was . . . _intrigued_ by the topic. It wasn't everyday she heard stories about what her father was really like (because she was _not_ going to ask and initiate conversation on her own), and even hearing the ones of the time before he learned to respect dragons were something she deeply craved.

She sat crouched on her rock as she turned the story over in her head.

"Actually, Gobber's tall tale reminds me of the time Stoick and I- -"

"Oh, no, Fishlegs!" Snotlout jumped up at his friend, on hand covering the larger man's mouth to keep him from saying anything else. "Your boring stories always involve two things: dragon facts and a menu of what kind of rocks Meatlug ate in the last five minutes!"

The shorter Nightmare rider jumped up from his place to stand directly in the fire's light for the optimal effect. His back was proudly straightened, and he hooked his hands around his belt. He smugly began.

"It's time for a real story of heroism, as told in the sensational Snotlout style!"

He seemed to have something stuck in his eye because one of his blinked close unexpectedly as he was leaning over to look at her. Her nose wrinkled at him.

"I was just returning from my morning workout- - fifty reps on the Iron Pummeler, if I do recall correctly, no big deal- - when our poor, defenseless island was suddenly attacked by a stampede of. . ."

. . .

_"Thunderclaws!" Stoick wailed hopelessly, hunched over on the ground with his hands collected over his head in some protection. "But- - oh, no- - I have twisted my ankle! What will I do?"_

_Thunderclaws were a unique species that didn't fly when they were panicking: a trait that made them easy for trappers to capture them. Unfortunately for Berk at the time, this made them just as dangerous when stampeding in a group._

_Luckily for Stoick, Snotlout was wearing his special anti-Thunderclaw repellent underwear at the time and used his enormous muscles to pick the four-hundred pound chief over his shoulder to keep him safe._

_"Thank Odin! It's Snotlout! What a fine, strapping chief he'd make!"_

. . .

"Yeah, Stoick went on to say how much better I was than Hiccup at pretty much everything, especially not whining. And then he said I could have my pick of any of Berk's lovely ladi- - owww!"

Snotlout's voice rose several octaves as his arm was suddenly wrenched behind his back.

"Uh, I mean, Stoick saved my life. Ow! Again."

. . .

_"Would you mind not_ crying _into my cape, Snotlout?" Stoick snapped, hardly sympathetic as he outran the thirteen-thousand pound dragon stampede chasing after them._

_Snotlout's pathetic wriggling over his shoulder as he panicked was not at all making the chief's job any easier. He was a grown man, for Thor's sake!_

_"Odin above, why can't you be more like Hiccup!"_

. . .

"That's- -Ow!- -That's how it really happened! Oww!"

"Neat story, Snotlout!" Astrid praised him with a false smile. "Thanks for telling the truth, eventually."

The same pathetic wriggling he performed here under her harsh treatment had not phased the warrior. She merely wrenched the arm back farther, making the rest of the occupants of the cave raise eyebrows at the clear _pop_ sound that echoed around them.

The sudden screech from outside the den finally made her let him go. Everyone became remarkably still as they listened to the harsh claws on the stone just outside their hiding place, accompanied by intimidating snarls and hisses.

Rama's smirk wiped from her face quickly, leaning forward in her crouch to peer intently at the solid wall before them. The muscles in her legs were tense, and each of the inhabitants got ready for a fight.

Eret, who was the closest to the wall, pulled out an unfamiliar tool she often saw him playing Throw and Catch with. It was a decorated bone with symbols carved into it, bent at the middle in a triangle with an absent hypotenuse. It wasn't lethal, but a hard hit on the head from it could definitely incapacitate someone or distract a dragon.

"They're getting closer."

Astrid leaned down to pick up her own cherished axe, examining her face in the reflection as she answered him. "Then what say we keep these campfire stories going while we still can? I remember this one time- -"

Everyone slowly sat back down to their original places around the fire, trying to lose the tension as long as they could before the coming fight outside.

"It was right before Stormfly and I tracked Hiccup and Toothless to Itchy Armpit. . ."

. . .

_The sun was high in the sky now. Astrid could hear the villagers behind her still cheering in their excitement over the morning races. It would be the talk of the island for hours as vikings went about their daily business as usual._

_Stoick was standing by the edge, looking off into the sea, far past the ancient stone guardians that had been built there by the generations before him._

_His eyes looked heavier in the recent years. New wrinkles sprouting over his skin. While much of the stress of the raids of fierce dragons had left him, his plate found itself filled with new problems that he had never been trained to handle._

_Hiccup was at the center of most of them._

_"Family squabble?" Astrid's tone was light as she moved to join him. Stormfly by her shoulder._

_"How you put up with my son, I'll never know," Stoick sighed out heavily, never turning his face away from the open sea his son had left to explore. "He's got his mother's fire in him."_

_"Don't worry," His future daughter-in-law reassured him, reaching his side to peer out over the island's edge. "Hiccup always comes back. He and Toothless just need to blow off some steam."_

_Stoick turned to face her. His bulky hands lifted to rest on her shoulders as he gave her a father-like smile. "You know, you'd make a fine Chief of Berk, Astrid. You have all the qualities of a leader: strength, honesty, discipline, patients- -"_

_"Not so sure about that last one. Besides, I'm a warrior, not a leader."_

_Stoick threw his head back and the laugh that sprang out from his throat could be felt throughout his belly as he lifted her into a warm hug._

_The reaction made Astrid grin, "Um, I wasn't joking."_

_"I know, I know," Stoick let her down. "It's just, Hiccup's mother- - Valka- - she and I always dreamed of having a daughter of our own." The callouses of his hands framed her face while spoke, gentle eyes adoring as he admired her, "And now, in you- - the spirited warrior who keeps watch over all of Berk, including our son- - well, we finally have that daughter."_

. . .

"My husband may have been wrong about a great many things, but he was certainly right about you, Astrid," Valka had stood, mirroring her husband's hands and framing the blonde warrior's face.

"Thanks, Valka," The younger woman replied. "But I have to say, you and Stoick seem so _different_. How'd you know you were right for each other? Was it your first kiss? Your first dance?"

"Nope," The older woman answered with a smile. "It was our first fistfight."

The stark answer made the cave's inhabitants all crack little grins.

"The Berserkers were trying to invade Berk again, back when Oswald the Agreeable was known as Oswald the Antagonistic," Rama saw her mother's eyes cloud over reminiscing at the days gone by. The soft smile that found its way on her face was evidence enough of how much she loved him. Enough to draw the young woman into the story. "Stoick had a right cross that would make you weak to the knees- - in more ways than one."

. . .

_"Val, I- - heh- - noticed you've really developed your, ah, uppercut lately," The young chief complimented her, showing off his own skills by knocking the breath out of his enemies with his bare hands._

_Valka spared him a smile, dodging the clean swipe of a sword to her left, "And I noticed you've finally opened your eyes and started paying attention, Stoick."_

_The both of them were surrounded, weaponless. The Berserkers had closed in a circle around them, prepared for the battle in their armor and wielding freshly sharpened swords._

_The two Berkians weren't concerned in the least, complimenting each other and admiring the others form as they slew invaders left and right._

. . .

"It didn't hurt that he had a pretty good singing voice, to boot."

. . .

_In no time at all, the two lovebirds had defeated all the attackers, leaving them in piles in the surrounding grass. The sounds of song emanating from their lips were an abrupt contrast to the groans of pain and regret surrounding them._

_The young couple were dancing gracefully, easily stepping over the spare limbs and bodies strewn about._

_"But I would bring you rings of gold and even sing you poetry, and I would keep you from all harm, if you would stay beside me - -"_

_"- -I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry, I only want your hand to hold- -"_

_"I only want you near me!"_

. . .

There was a hearty laugh echoing around the cave. She could easily see the sight in her mind's eye. Rama could imagine her parents' shadows dancing against the warm glow of the fire in front of her. It brought a genuine smile on her face; the night stretching muscles that had seen little use in the last few weeks.

"Uh, yeah, that was all romantic and a tearjerker and whatnot," The harsh gravelly voice of one of the Zippleback twins cut through her head as they stole the wheel. "But the time for tear jerking is over. Now is the time for fear jerking!"

The other half took up where the first left off, "Behold a tale so sinister, so _maddening_ , it will make your sixth toes curl!"

Rama's eyebrows furrowed.

. . .

_"Thank you for granting us your trickster powers, Lord Loki!" The praise was being shouted as the great deceiver soared through the sky, purple and green smoke blasting behind him as his glorious cape flowed through the wind. "Our dark prayers have finally been answered!"_

_"And not a moment too soon, Tuffnado! For we must now face our greatest challenge," The twins rocketed around the band, finally laying eyes on their adversary. "The attack of the Fifty-Foot Gothi!"_

_The former medicine woman, the elder of the tribe, had grown to an immense size! Along her face dark green monstrous scales were blooming, and a tail had sprouted underneath her long shirt. The Fifty-Foot Gothi let out a roar that could rival that of a Screaming Death moments before she began to breathe out billowing clouds of fire and incinerated the homely and oblivious village of Berk._

_"Stand back, Ruffnuckles! I'm going to Ragnarok her world with a Jötunn Jab right to the- -"_

. . .

"Um," The nasally voice of the Gronckle rider saved the rest of the riders from hearing anything else. "That had absolutely nothing to do with Stoick."

The twins giggled and snorted at their own antics, still making their own strange sounds in the aftermath of their epic, "pew, pew" and "ka-boom!"

"Did you two hit your heads when Toothless collapsed the cave entrance?" Astrid harshly shouted at them as though that would help her drill her words in their thick skulls any better.

"And Ruffnut's the only one with the sixth toe," Snotlout helpfully pointed out, arms crossed over his chest and an unimpressed look on his face.

"Hiccup?" Astrid's voice was suddenly softer, kinder, as she turned to look at her fiancé. "We haven't heard from you yet. Anything you want to share about Stoick?"

Rama, along with the rest of the riders, watched their chief as he stood silent for several seconds. The emotions on his face were difficult for Rama to read. Human body language was never something. . . Without thinking, her green eyes drifted to her second brother, the incredibly intelligent dragon so. . . partially responsible for their father's death.

Toothless' eyes were closed, and his head turned slightly away from the warm glow of the fire, his human companion at his side. A sure sign of regret. Sadness. Recalling a painful memory. Rama had been there when it happened. Witnessing. Had stood, frozen, watching as her brother cried over their father's body.

It seemed like all the fighting had stopped in a second. It was eerily quiet.

It was difficult for Rama to understand. It felt like a dream. It wasn't actually happening. Couldn't be.

But then Hiccup was shouting, screaming at Toothless; chasing him away. Blaming him and lashing out.

Rama didn't think it at the time, but it must have been very hard for Hiccup to grasp how great of an influence the alpha dragon has. He hadn't grown under the care of an alpha. He didn't understand the lack of control his companion had. Not really.

Pairing that with the trauma of losing his father to his brother's fire.

It was just another stab in the chest.

Rama didn't realize that she had such a tight hold on Snares until he pulled away from her, and the alpha was controlling her dragon half just as he had done with her brother's. She called after him, trying to break him from his hold even though she knew it was hopeless; but her lifelong companion didn't even spare her a glance. It was not long before he disappeared from her sight into the growing thunder in the sky.

It was the first time an external force had ever separated them. . . or at all really. Until now.

Rama turned back to her human brother.

The emotion on his face was difficult to read.

Bittersweet.

Their father had such an impact on everyone there. Telling stories about the great chief was heartwarming. Rama could feel the smile lifting up onto her face as she thought about how great her father, a viking, was; only just accompanied by the chilly stab to her heart at the realization here. She knew, if she was so like him as her mother had said before, she would be all right.

She and her brother could carry on. Push through and reach the other side.

Hiccup would lead them there.

He had a smile on his face as he looked around the cave. He turned to his sister, looking over her bright red hair and the same familiar green eyes, as he opened his mouth to answer them, "Only that dad would've liked this. What we're doing right here, right now, telling stories before a big battle."

He reached into his strange leather suit, pulling free his flaming sword and the several canisters that carried the saliva of Monstrous Nightmares, gesturing for the group to hold out their own weapons.

Rama's own short-sword wasn't used often. It was a gift from her mother from her days before living with dragons (Val assured her daughter it was a virgin blade never brought up against a dragon in combat when she proved to be hesitant), but the rider was glad she brought it along on the mission this time.

Hiccup coated both sides of the blade in the foggy saliva and moving along to the hammers and axes of the other vikings beside her. It was fairly clear what his plan was.

"Dad used to call it 'Burning Midnight,'" He went on, shaking the last canister to empty it as much as possible. "And that's exactly what we'll have to do if we're ever gonna get out of this cave and rescue our dragons."

The mood in the cave had shifted. The question of whether they would make it out alive or not was replaced with the great memory of their former chief. The anxiety of being separated from their dragons was smoothed over with rekindled determination to rescue them. Everyone stood up and looked to their leader for the word.

"Okay, let's light 'em up."

Rama thrust the end of her sword into the fire, igniting it.

"For freedom."

Toothless shook out his neck once before letting out a powerful blast at the entrance.

"For Berk."

At once, there were loud screeches echoing around the canyon before them. The spiderlike feral dragons had them surrounded and were ready to charge into battle.

"For _Stoick_."


End file.
